Wet Beefs, and Sausages, and Fries, O My

O, the sloppy goodness of Jonnie's beefs, piled high with glistening, tender meat, overtopped with hot and sweet peppers, and then dunked in the jus before wrapped up in fries and white paper for the ride home. In my real life, I don't do fast food anymore--it makes me fat, stupid, and insensitive (insensate?) to the taste of real food--but, O, how lovely it is to return to one's origins, and slather oneself in terribly bad ugly mortal but luminous, splendorous, beefy richness; O, how such food speaks to my very soul, my cells cry out for more. [written previously in the Enormous Midwest City.]

Stained Glass Chandelier: Done!

Chandelier, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

What a nightmare this was, but at last, it's done. Just got back from a Grand Time in DC, and now I have to run about a billion and a half errands as I get ready for my Christmas Tour of the Deep South/Frozen North. Errand-running, especially this time of year, makes me positively crazy and not a little homicidal (driving brings Hyde out, for sure), but I have no more time; everything on the list gets done, period.

One thing I have to do is figure out precisely how to transport this monstrocity of mine some five hundred miles south; I have the great big paper mache ball I built it on, and will definitely use that, but it's fragile on the edges--really it's a chaos of edges--and once in the jeep, it simply cannot move at all, or it's all over. Well, I'll figure something out. . .

Dead Letter Office, I (to a friend in Paris)

Dear B,

So you've been sending everyone else lengthy missives, love letters, and lyrical meditations, and what, nothing for me? Not even a line, a smatter of phonemes, a jumble of syntax, a clot of congealed diction? Not even a lower-cased unpunctuated besmileyfaced parataxis of unsubordinated impression?

Well, I've been thinking of you often, and miss you; you're sorely missed. The grey day is drearier and greyer without you.

How are you enjoying yourself? How's the wienerschnitzel and sauerkraut? The saltwater taffy? In short: how's Paris?

Travel (and tasks and tasks)

Three days from now, the chaos starts. I really can't wait, as it's a kind of chaos that is generally absent from my life, and I am bent on shaking up my carefully-ordered world. In my default mode, I seem to construct a life of wearyingly regular habits, concerns, and prodedures--a life that I will defend against intrusion, but secretly hate. Soon, now, I'll leave this life behind--vacate these damned habits, these stale confines--and begin a whirlwind tour visiting friends and family.

First, I'm traveling to DC to see a fantastic play with a dear old friend of mine from out of town; we go way back, she and I, and is beautiful, besides--how lovely is it to stroll about the Capitol with a lovely woman at your elbow? Of course, she might be cranked out by the holidays--nothing like Christmas to bring out the homicide lingering in us all--but she even cranks out in interesting ways.

Second, I'll drive down to the Deep South to visit my folks for Christmas, a drive made much easier with my (relatively new) iPod and scads and scads of creatively acquired mp3s.

After Christmas, I'll be flying into Enormous Midwest City to hook up with some old friends of mine, and then we're off on a Road Trip to the Frozen North; we've been making this trip for many years, and it's a real treat to be able to make it this year.

Then it's back to Enormous Midwest City to hang out in coffee shops, used CD shops, and art galleries, and get my work done.

But before any of this can happen, I must complete my Looming Project by Tuesday:

1. Finish construction of stained glass chandelier I'm making (I'm working on photos of this damned thing for the blog)

2. Finish tinning the billions of copper edges I have exposed (that is, without dripping lead elsewhere and making matters worse)

3. Buy and apply patina to the thing

4. Clean the hot lead/glass shards/copper foil paper/lead dust out of my living room (oh, did I mention that I've set up camp in my living room, watching all of Season 3 of 24, and enough C-SPAN to kill a horse while putting this monster together?) before company arrives (a friend of mine is house-sitting while I'm gone).

5. Start on my other projects (which I'll write on shortly).

Truth to tell, I'm dang weary of this project, but there's nowhere to go but through it to the end.

Research and Deadlines / Sparrowhawks

Okay; in six weeks I'm slated to make a presentation at the Impressive Institution in Washington, DC, and I'm trying to get my bearings and determine a cogent plan of action. The problem is that in my work I am quite the montage/ found-objects artist, reading many, many different kinds of things, excerpting what's relevant to my project, and then trying to fit the jillions of minute pieces into a coherent, elegant, and powerful argument (a process that has met, so far, with mixed results). Sometimes I feel like a mad conductor of an ad hoc orchestra which I have indeed assembled, but can't quite seem to control. Well, today I've instituted a hiring freeze: NO NEW MUSICIANS NEED APPLY, that's it, I'm done, we go with what we've got, and that's that. This makes me a little sad, as there are still so many intriguing avenues of research open to me, but I am a slow, methodical writer who needs a lot of revision time, so I have to start on the story right now.

+ + +

Wow; between the end of that last line and now, I spied a sparrow-hawk right outside the window of the coffee shop, and asked the guy next to me what he knew about birds and whether he could confirm it. As he turned, the hawk jumped up, huge in the window, wings extended, and then flew off to the right. The somewhat (read: entirely) bourgeois woman to the right of me, sitting with husband and son, wondered what the thing ate, and was shocked (remarkably) when I suggested that young mothers had better 'ware their young children. She didn't know how to take that, and with a frumpy dismissal, gathered her things and left with her husband/son in tow.

Now this is a single encounter, and nothing to write home about, but I can't help but wonder: is it just me, or are there more humorless people out and milling about than in previous years?

Perceived Moral Equivalencies

gomaa712, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

An ugly post, this; I realize that this is nothing anyone really wants to read, but it bears repeating that the muslim world looks upon our killing of Iraqis as ideologically and morally equivalent to Sharon's killing of Palestinians in the occupied territories. As more than one of the panelists at the Al Qaeda 2.0 conference put it last week, the muslim satellite news organizations chronicle two major stories, and two major stories only: the suffering of the Palestinians at the hands of the Israelis, and the suffering of the Iraqis at our hands. This cartoon, taken from Al Ahram Weekly, indicates exactly this association, and it is an association we cannot live with for long.

And yet prospects of a Middle East peace do not look good, especially considering the reputation of the incoming Secretary of State (presumptive) in geopolitical circles, and the continuation of Israeli offensive operations within the occupied territories themselves.

Thievery

I’ve been out of the house lately, creeping about various locations within the Blogosphere, and have lifted a couple of items of note off the porches of various respectable establishments. The Iraq War Cost I ripped from Cheeky Prof (another measure of the cost is available here), the Moonscape I nabbed from Advice at Your Own Risk (the practical uses for which are available here), and the Sesame Street Terror Alert, from a place I cannot now recall (my apologies). On this last, I must warn you; before the current terror alert status lulls you into a false sense of security, I suggest that you check this out, quite the archive of cutting-edge investigative journalism.

UPDATE: aha, I snagged it from Medusa (sorry, Snakes).

Second Update: the Media Matters Icon I nipped from the Cul du Sac.

Third Update: Took off the Media Matters Icon, as it took too much space; sorry, David.

I even have a suit like this

What Social Status are you?
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as alternative. You're partially respected for being an individual in a conformist world yet others take you as a radical. You have no place in society because you choose not to belong there - you're the luckiest of them all, even if your parents are completely ashamed of you. Just don't take drugs ok?

On the dangers of flexibility/compromise

The reeds give way to the wind
And give the wind away.
Ashbery

Wolfangel lately

Hildegard, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

If you haven't already: here.

Ghoulish Provision, 2005 Appropriations Bill

Wild horses, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

As initially reported by Christian Bourge at UPI and then examined by Steve Clemons over at thewashingtonnote:

A little-noticed provision in the $388 billion 2005 omnibus appropriations bill given final clearance by the House on Monday and signed into law by Bush Wednesday would end the 33-year-old ban on the sale of wild horses for slaughter.

The provisions -- reportedly put in the measure by Sen. Conrad Burns, R-Mont., before Thanksgiving -- orders the Bureau of Land Management to sell any horses captured that are at least 10 years old and are not adopted, with the money earned going to the agency.

More than 14,000 captured wild horses are being kept in holding sites in Oklahoma and Kansas. The animals are often captured because they are foraging on government land leased by private farmers for grazing of other types of livestock, typically cattle.

The United States exported 8,750 tons of horsemeat in 2003, around one-third of which was destined for consumption in France.

Consumption of the meat is prohibited in the United States.

Cnidean Aphrodite (first shower scene?)

Cnidean Aphrodite, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

This is not my sort of thing--I am in no way an Art Historian--but I am a fellow of sorts at an Institution in DC that has many different people from different disciplines writing on a variety of subjects. I just finished reading an essay by a colleague of mine on this sculpture, and knowing something about her history now, it's hard to imagine a lovelier, or more seductive, sculpture. Notice how the wrap hangs to one side, not at all obscuring her body, and that she seems to be completely unaware of the spectator. We've stumbled upon the goddess at a completely vulnerable (and dangerous--remember Acteon) moment. And is that a jug of water there to wash off the sea foam?

Of course, there's always this one, found over at Medusa's place; also not bad, but it depends upon what mood you're in, and how (and where) you like your women.

Answer: this pie graph

Answer: this pie graph, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

Question: what does George Bush's mandate look like?

(For some reason, the good folks over at presidential election results.org have reversed the party colors; it's enough of a quirk to get one to wonder what's going on over there.)

Picture of me in Fez, Morocco

Picture of me in Fez, Morocco last year, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

The University flew me thataway to deliver a paper somewhat north of Morocco last year, and I used the opportunity to bang around country for three weeks or so. You see? always nostalgia over getting one's work done. Time to get back to it.

Mud / Al Qaeda 2.0 Conference (I)

Slept in a little today, but I did get back on the trail; couldn’t find my ratty old shoes, and so I went in my good leather ones. Mimimum of mud, though; got off easy.

I’ve wanted to summarize some of my impressions since the Al Qaeda 2.0: Transnational Terrorism After 9/11 conference, but I’ve been in book-swallowing mode for a couple of weeks now, and these phases don’t last; no doubt the doldrums will be upon me soon, and I must put away a good six more before I get back to my recasting of Chapter Three.

But I think I’ll start today. Now, truth to tell, I am a fellow of sorts at an Impressive Institution in DC, and part of the deal is that I show up on a regular basis and critique fellow fellow’s book chapters/ articles, and I have to respond to two such manuscripts in the next forty-eight hours. I’ll start with some summary and response, however, today.

Peter Bergen (Johns Hopkins University, author of Holy War, Inc.) was one of the first of twenty-nine experts to speak, and as one of the organizers of the conference (with Steven Clemons and Karen Greenberg), he was a vital presence throughout the day. Here are some bullet points from his talk:

·Demonizing Al Qaeda terrorists, thinking of them as entities of pure evil who “hate freedom” is perhaps the primary stumbling block in determining thoughtful and clear-headed policy; in the end, such rhetorical manoeuvering simply stops the conversation.

·Al Qaeda terrorists are not just people sitting around in caves or spider holes, but are clean-dressed, professional people scattered around the world with vast financial resources.

·Subscribing to the Great Man theory of history, it’s important to get bin Laden; every time he releases a tape, it further radicalizes the base, and terrorist attacks result from it. There are few tactical actions that we could take that would be as effective of getting a shot of Osama bin Laden being examined for head lice. But he will want to be martyred.

·The Iraq war was a disaster; polling data throughout the muslim world indicates that bin Laden’s popularity went through the roof after the Iraq war, whereas before the war, muslims were more likely to be ashamed of the action. Another leading indicator: last year was the worst year of terrorism to date. Finally, there will be a long-term disposal problem for radicalized elements in Iraq, a phenomenon with which we are well acquainted after Afghanistan.

·Muslim extremists thought of the Pentagon and the NY financial district as Israeli targets; US backing of Israel against the Palestinians is a primary problem in the Muslim world.

·Disturbing Trends: 1) Al Qaeda and Kasmiri groups are merging, sharing resources and integrating some aspects of command and control; this is particularly troublesome, as Kasmiri groups are quite popular in Pakistan, and such a union threatens to further solidify opposition against the current government, and the US. 2) There have been no serious cases of terrorism in the US after 9/11, and the existence of extant sleeper cells inside the US at this point is unlikely. But Europe has muslim diaspora communities with a combined population of more than 20 million, and this number will continue to grow.

If any of this is news to you--if this runs contrary to the matter and the tone of what you've been watching on the networks or reading in the paper--it simply means that you've been paying attention. The media has been doing a terrible job at informing the public.

This is just a taste of what the conference had to offer, and I'll continue on with the highlights tomorrow; now it's time to proof essays.

Red States, and Getting Redder

Red States, and Getting Redder, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

Boots in the Shop /Al Qaeda

Arrrgg. I broke my nearly perfect record of hiking every morning this morning--it was drizzling out and grey, and just couldn't bear to slog and slip on the trail. My good boots (old boots, expensive boots, boots that have been with me for a long time) are in the repair shop, and so I've been using a ratty old pair of sneakers that have no treads on the bottom to hike in. I have pretty good balance, so it's not usually a big deal, but with all this mud and water, I decided to stay warm, and dry, and in bed reading a couple of recent arrivals from Amazon.com.

Of course, that meant sleeping in--not too badly, but this is dangerous for me; it's not that I enjoy sleeping (I'm unconscious, after all), but rather the experience of going back to sleep that is so luxurious and seductive. Last week I missed a hike, but spent a grueling day in DC at the "Al Qaeda 2.0" conference, an outstandingly exciting colloquium of a good dozen and a half experts on Al Qaeda / international terrorism. But I'll be damned if after the three hour drive up there (we left at four-thirty AM), there were no official breaks until six that evening. Sitting there paying attention in the same goddamned position for ten hours in front of C-SPAN / CNN cameras is no easy walk in the park (although I swear that the congresional aides/ reporters/ DoD attaches/ CIA spooks didn't seem to have a problem), and by the time I got home, I was worn out.

So I suppose I got my exercise anyway last Friday. But today, nothing, nada, mere sloth. I know; these breaks with the past, these changes of habit are terribly precarious, and everything must proceed deliberately. Tomorrow is an absolute go, even if the sky is falling, which weather.com is basically forecasting.

Trail Outlook

Trail Outlook, originally uploaded by lesserajax.

Imperatives

For two weeks now, I've been beginning my day with a four-mile hike through the mountains--these mountains, actually (see below; I'm still trying to figure out the whole photoblogging thing; bear with me).

Rilke famously ends his "Archaic Torso of Apollo" with the imperative "you must change your life," an unsettling command that is the most forthright expression of the personal demands that great art places upon us. Curiously, this same imperative can result from a life in which one sleeps until two in the afternoon, doesn't get to sleep until five, watches cable news incessantly, muses nostalgically upon lost friends, past loves, new wrinkles, and gazes about for potential love relationships, but to no or little avail. When gazing at great art, your life can't help but bleach and blanch in comparison with it, and you can use it as a kind of guide to endeavor something, anything, that at least hints toward redemption. When staring black night in the face, night that begins three hours after you wake and just hints at dissolution in the sky when you go to sleep, redemption seems more elusive.

Anonymity

I'm wondering how anonymous this blog should be; on the one hand, it sounds like an awfully good idea, especially considering that as an academic blog, I certainly don't want my students reading it, but on the other, I've not yet received my Ph.D., and will have the option of donning a drapier, veletier mantle of anonymity when I move on to the next thing. For now, I'll keep the geographical elements something shy of explicit, but precise enough to allow for some local detail. Besides, I get a little wigged out reading about semi-Bunyanian allegorical figures and towns (although my favorites are profgrrrrl's "Gentleville" and Bitch, Ph.D.'s "pseudonymous kid,"); in this brash and smeary realist world of ours, it's a little unsettling to hear stories told about allegorical figures (cf. "Romeo" or "Freud") wrangled up in otherwise mundane settings. Perhaps a kind of blogosphere magic realism? Well, I'm not quite sold yet.

As to content, I imagine that it'll be a hodgepodge of all manner of things, many or most of them probably not school-related. Truth to tell, I'm beginning to grey a little in the beard, lengthen more than a little in the tooth, and it's been a little while since I've blinked the dew from my lashes (or so it feels). Whenever I feel truly old, I hang a left over to wolfangel's place; it's always nice to check in to see what she's up to (although, as she will herself tell you, you trust her at your peril).